


Benched

by positivelystisaac



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, One Shot, Prompt Fill, stisaac - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-17
Updated: 2014-03-17
Packaged: 2018-01-16 01:21:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1326499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/positivelystisaac/pseuds/positivelystisaac
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When it comes to lacrosse, Stiles and Isaac are left to warm the bench together, game after game. Eventually, this mutual bench time develops into something weird for both of them. But when Stiles leaves the bench in exchange for the field, Isaac isn't as happy for him as he should be. Filled prompt/one shot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Benched

**Author's Note:**

> AKA the prompt I sat on for a month...
> 
> This is for the most lovely, patient anon. Thank you for the great prompt, and hope it's what you were looking for- Sorry for making you wait so long!

Stiles isn't sure when it happens. Maybe it was the day Isaac showed up to Scott's house in a pair of sweatpants that hung just a little too low on his hips. Maybe it was when he would pull off his shirt in the locker room, and Stiles found himself looking for just a little longer than normal. Maybe it was the time he gave Isaac and Scott a ride and Isaac spent the whole time going through Stiles' CD collection and talking about music and Stiles realized Isaac actually had really good taste. Whatever it is, Stiles finds himself sitting next to Isaac on the bench at the lacrosse game, feeling like he chased a double dose of adderall with a half a case of red bull. 

This feeling stays with Stiles every time he's in Isaac's presence for the next week, which holds three lacrosse games spent on the bench together. They don't usually talk, but rather sit in silence and watch the game. Regardless, Stiles' heart still feels like it's going to pound out of his chest. 

The fourth game marks the first time they make actual conversation on the bench. They have a back and forth about music, and although it isn't much, it's enough to make Stiles' feel the nervous energy in his toes. 

The next few games go on like this. Their playful banter leaves Stiles feeling like the only way to get rid of the sizzling feeling he feels in his veins is to 1) kiss Isaac or 2) run a marathon. Little does he know that Isaac sits just inches away trying to stop his heart from beating so fast that Scott can hear it. 

Even though Isaac is good at lacrosse, like really good after being bitten, he never plays well in games. He practices well but never plays well enough to get off the bench, let alone play first line. Stiles always wants to ask him why, but can't muster up the guts to ask him anything that has the potential of being too personal. 

He doesn't know what to do anymore, because he feels like he wants to explode every time he thinks about Isaac. In a good way. He decides to talk to Danny, because there's no way in hell he would ever talk to someone straight about something like this. Plus, he figures he can trust Danny.

Spring Break interrupts their season, leaving them with almost two weeks of no practice. Coach always demands they workout and practice stick work on their own, but Stiles has a habit of spending his time avoiding his equipment bag. After their last practice before break, Coach reminds them of this before sending them off to the showers. 

Stiles makes sure to shower slowly, knowing that Scott and Isaac usually leaves pretty quickly. When Stiles is almost finished getting dressed, he sees Scott leave, on the phone with his mom about something, followed closely by Isaac. He decides to make his move. "Danny!" Stiles hisses, poking his head around the open locker door. Danny practically jumps out of skin.

"Holy shit, Stiles. You scared me."

"Sorry," Stiles says, stepping out from behind the locker.

"What's up?" Danny asks with a smile, pulling on his shirt. 

"I need help. Er, advice. I dunno... help? advice? guidance? I need it," Stiles rambles. 

"Okaaaaay?" Danny sounds confused. "Everything alright?" 

"Yeah. Well, no. Well, actually, yes. I can't really be sure-"

"Out with it, Stiles," Danny says. By this point, they're the only ones in the locker room, but Stiles looks around anyway, wringing his hands in the hem of his flannel shirt.

"I think I might be gay. Well, actually, on second thought, no. I think bi," he says quickly. Danny gives him a small smile. 

"Okaaaay," he says, drawing out the word and urging Stiles to elaborate. 

"And I don't know what to do because I sort of really like someone and I don't know what to do since it's not a girl for the first time," Stiles says, face flushed red. 

"Okay. Well first of all, props. Isaac is pretty hot, I don't blame you" Danny asks, sitting down on the bench. 

"What? Isaac? I... I don't know wha-"

"Stiles," Danny says, shooting him a look.

"Okay, fine.Yes, it's Isaac. And yes, he's hot. But that's not the only thing. He lives with Scott so I already sort of knew him and all but Coach has us both on the bench like every game and we started talking way more, and... I don't know, I guess I really like him," Stiles says, rubbing his neck. 

"Okay, so what's wrong with that?" asks Danny.

"Well I want him to like me but I don't know how so I guess what I'm asking is what do I do to get him to like me?" Stiles says. "God, I sound like a nine year old girl," he adds. 

"You don't have to anything to get him to like you. Don’t change from him, just be yourself," Danny says.

"You sound like a self-help book," Stiles replies. "Seriously, what do I do? I can barely pick up girls, let alone a guy."

"Not true!" Danny protests, pulling his shirt over his head. "You do just fine with girls. Plus, it's a lot easier talking to guys. Way more common ground."

"I don't know."

Danny grabs his shoes from his locker and shoves his feet into them. "Also, guys are more horny."

Stiles can't argue with that. "But Isaac likes girls," he says, still unconvinced.

"How do you know?" Danny asks, placing his foot on the bench and leaning over to tie his shoe.

"Well…. I mean…." Stiles wracks his brain for any memories of Isaac with a girl or guy. He comes up blank. "I guess I don't know for sure. But-"

"First rule," Danny says, cutting Stiles off. "Don't assume. I learned it the hard way. Don't assume people are straight as if it's the human default- not only is it old fashioned and bound to get you into trouble if you offend the wrong person, but it only hurts you. If you assume someone's straight, you automatically close a door before you get the chance to see what's behind it and rule out potential dates."

"Okay, yeah. That's fair. So maybe Isaac likes guys. Maybe he likes girls, maybe he likes both. How do I find out?" Stiles asks.

"Ask?" Danny offers.

"Are you kidding me?" Stiles asks incredulously. "'Hey, Isaac, do you like boys? Cause I'm a boy and I like you and it would be hella rad if you returned the feeling. Lemme know!' absolutely not!"

"Just ask!"

"Are you high? No way, dude. Can't do it."

"You could!"

"Nope. No way. I'll just take my chances in assuming he's straight and move on."

"Stiles!" Danny argues. "Just a few minutes ago you were practically waxing poetic about him and looking for tips on how to win him over. You're just going to give up?"

"Well-"

"Just go for it. Assume he likes guys. If it turns out he doesn't, no big deal. I can help you find another nice guy."

"Should I?" Stiles asks, beginning to consider it. 

Danny nods. 

"Okay," Stiles says, coming around to the idea. "Okay, yeah. I'll do it."

Danny ties his other shoe before picking up his bag from the floor, swinging it over his shoulder, and closing his locker. Stiles turns around to find his own bag when Danny speaks up again. 

"Plus, he's gay, so you'll be fine," Danny says, pulling out his phone. 

"Uh- what?!" Stiles spins around, kicking an open locker door closed in the process. 

"He hooked up with Michael at a party a few weeks ago," Danny says nonchalantly, still looking at his phone. 

"And you didn't want to mention that because...."

"Because now, you're confident."

Stiles can't really argue with that. 

His whole drive home, he contemplates what to say to Isaac. He decides he should just impress him somehow and then play off of his advantage. He considers making him a good CD, or cutting his hair. It's only when he sees his helmet rolling in the floorboards that he decides to step up his lacrosse game. 

Surprisingly, Stiles spends his two weeks off actually working out. He hits the gym in the mornings, works on stick skills and drills in the afternoon, and even starts joining Scott on his daily run. Scott doesn't ask questions, thankfully. He's just glad for the company. 

Once he stops fucking around, Stiles realizes he's actually not half bad at lacrosse. The running, he realizes, is exactly what he needs to boost him up to playing status. Their first practice back, Coach starts the off with a timed mile. Stiles is thankful he actually worked over the break, or else he's pretty sure his mile would send not only himself, but Coach, too, into cardiac arrest. 

Stiles comes in pretty close to the front of the pack, just under five minutes and beating out both Scott and Isaac by a few seconds. "Stilinski, four fifty two!" Coach calls. "Wait a minute..." he says, glancing at his watch and then back up at the finish line, where Stiles is standing, hands on knees as he tries to catch his breath. "Can't believe I'm about to say this, but nice job, Stilinski," Coach says.

When Scott and Isaac cross the finish line a few seconds later, they both have confused looks on their faces that mirror Coach's. "McCall! Five oh four. Lahey! Five oh six," Coach calls from the side. The boys nod, walking over to the benches to dig their gear out of their bags. 

"I left my helmet in the locker room," Scott says after rooting around in his bag quickly. He jogs off back in the direction of the locker rooms, leaving Isaac and Stiles alone. "Holy shit, Stiles," Isaac says, sitting down next to him on one of the empty benches. He puts his head between his knees, trying to catch his breath. "When did you get so fast?"

"I don't know," Stiles says honestly. Sure, he had been training more, but he didn't actually expect to be that fast.

"You better watch it, or I'm going to be left to warm the bench alone," Isaac grins, slapping Stiles on the shoulder.

"Hey, now. You'll never be alone. You'll always have Greenberg to help keep the bench toasty," Stiles smiles. "Isn't that right, Greenberg?" he calls playfully over his shoulder, earning a laugh from Isaac.

"Greenberg's no you," Isaac says. Stiles feels his face burn with a quickly-creeping blush he's trying desperately to suppress.

Isaac feels like he's going to either turn to liquid or burst into flames. He takes a deep breath just as Stiles inhales as well.

Stiles' heart is racing. Luckily, Isaac's is, too, loud and fast enough to cover the sound of Stiles'.

Isaac nudges Stiles with his knee before getting up to find his water bottle. His spot on the bench next to Stiles is quickly replaced with Scott, who jogs back over, helmet in hand. "You okay, dude?" he asks Stiles as he sits down. He knocks his cleat against Stiles' to get his attention when he gets no response. Stiles snaps his head up from where he was staring at the grass.

"What? Yeah." His skin feels like it's crawling with electricity, and his chest feels physically tight at the thought of Isaac, but he can't tell Scott that.

"You look dead," Scott remarks.

"Nah, I'm good."

"You sure? Four fifty two? I mean…. Are you sure you didn't get the bite?" Scott laughs.

Stiles laughs with him, reaching for his nearby water bottle. "Yes, I'm sure. Just reaping the benefits of actually trying, I suppose." He takes a sip.

"Sick of varsity benchwarming?" Scott jokes. Stiles almost chokes on the water in his mouth. If only he knew.

Coach rounds them up for drills, and by the end of practice, Stiles is dripping sweat, something he's never experienced after a practice before. Everyone gathers around Coach for any last instruction before heading home. "Game tomorrow! Don't forget. Let's not lose this one, yeah boys?" Everyone shrugs, nodding. "Good. Don't disappoint me again, even though I'm used to it. Now go shower, you all reek."

-

"Isaac, tie your cleats," Stiles says at the game the following day.

"Nah, I'm good," Isaac replies with a small grin.

Stiles starts kicking Isaac's cleats, watching the untied laces flutter with each kick. "Tie. Your. Cleats."

"Stiles!" Isaac protests, kicking Stiles' foot away. Stiles doesn't give in, though. 

"Tie your cleats," he replies with a laugh, resuming the short, fast kicks against Isaac's feet. 

"Nooooo," Isaac argues. 

"Stilinski!" 

Stiles pauses, head shooting up and eyes darting in the direction of his name. 

"Let's go, Stilinski, you're up! Get in for Danny," Coach calls over his shoulder. 

"What?" Stiles asks incredulously, jumping off the bench. He thinks he must have heard wrong, because there's no way that Coach had noticed how much better he was getting. How could he, if he never got to see Stiles do anything other than warm the bench? Well, there was that mile yesterday that-

"You heard me! Get your ass on the field before I die of old-"

"Got it, Coach!" Stiles yells, scrambling for his stick. He steals a glance at Isaac as he runs out onto the field. He looks kind of upset, not to mention confused, but Stiles shrugs it off, sprinting out to his position. Danny jogs off, nudging Stiles with his stick as they pass. 

He tosses his stick down and takes off his helmet, taking Stiles' seat next to Isaac. "You like him," he smirks. 

Isaac quickly turns his head and looks at Danny. "What?"

"Stiles. You like him, don't you?"

Isaac's face flushes red as he scrambles for his words. "Uh... no... I... why would you think that?"

Danny shoots him a look. "Well, for one, you guys have been practically drooling over each other since pre-season started. For another, you didn't take your eyes off of Stiles' ass as he ran onto the field. And for another, you looked like you got kicked in the gut when he got put in."

'Oh God', Isaac thinks. 'Is it really that obvious?' 

"Yes," Danny says.

Shit, did he say that out loud? Isaac's face continues to burn red with embarrassment. "You might be able to fool your oblivious straight friends, but I've known for like two months," Danny grins. 

"That's not true!"

"What, you don't trust my gay-dar?" 

"Oh my God!" Isaac protests. "This isn't happening." He wants to hide forever. 

"It's okay, he likes you too," Danny says. 

"What? How do you know?" Isaac asks, frantic eyes scanning Danny's face for any sign of deception. He tries to listen to Danny's heartbeat, but he can't focus. 

Danny laughs. "Well, for one, he trips over himself even more when he's around you. Also, he told me."

"He told you?" Isaac's face is finally starting to return to its normal coloring again. "No, Danny, I don't believe you."

"He literally asked me what he should do to get you to like him," Danny says honestly. Isaac tries to focus, and he listens for Danny's heartbeat this time. When he hears no jumps, he takes lets out the breath he didn't know he was holding in. 

"And you said?" 

"As if I would tell you that much. You have to find out from him!" 

"But-" 

Isaac's protest is cut off by the referee's whistle, signaling the end of the game. Isaac and Danny look over at the field for the first time as they stand up to join the post-game huddle. Everyone is cheering around Stiles, patting him on the back and nudging him with their sticks as they run off the field. Even Coach pats him on the back. "Way to go, Stilinski. Who knew you had it in you? Certainly not me."

"Thanks, Coach," Stiles says, taking off his helmet to reveal damp hair. He laughs at something Scott says, still smiling as he pushes the hair out of his face. Isaac swallows audibly. Danny shoots him a look, which Isaac pretends not to see. 

"What happened?" Isaac whispers, knowing that Scott will be able to hear him from the other side of the group of boys. 

"Game winning goal," Scott whispers back. Isaac nods. Of course he missed it. 

Coach switches between congratulating the boys and yelling at them before dismissing them to hit the showers. Isaac turns back to the bench and grabs his equipment. When he looks up, Stiles is standing in front of him with a big grin on his face. 

"Hey, good playing, man," Isaac says, struggling to keep his breathing in check. Since when was he so flustered around Stiles?

"Thanks!" Stiles grins, kneeling down to tie his cleats. 

"Missed you on the bench, though," Isaac grins.

Stiles laughs. "I bet. Nice and cold without my ass to warm it?" 

"Like I said. Greenberg doesn't compare," Isaac says, earning a laugh from Stiles, which he gladly joins in on as they walk off the field together in search of Scott.

Maybe it's by design. Maybe it's not. Regardless, Stiles and Isaac are the last ones left in the locker room. In fact, everyone else is gone before they even get in there. Sheriff Stilinski stops Stiles before he can get to the locker room, completely in awe over Stiles' game winning goal. Isaac busies himself talking to Scott, who realizes he has to leave right off the field to pick up his mom from work. As soon as he finishes talking to his dad, Stiles offers to drive Isaac home. 

Being the last ones on the field means they're charged with bringing the equipment to the shed on the other side of the field. It takes them a couple of trips, but it's time spent together that neither of them actually minds. By the time they get into the locker room, everyone has cleared out, eager to move on to their Friday night plans. 

Isaac puts his bag down on one of the benches, and something in Stiles clicks. He's not sure why, but he does it.

Dropping his bag at his feet, Stiles quickly brings his hands to Isaac's jersey. He tangles his fingers in the material, damp with sweat. Walking forward, he pushes Isaac back against the wall. Isaac gasps in surprise, but doesn't protest. Instead, he brings his hands to Stiles' hips. "Stiles," Isaac asks, even though he isn't expecting a response. 

Stiles meets Isaac's eyes, and then all of a sudden their lips are on each other's. Isaac's back hits the cold tile of the locker room wall, sending another chill down his spine. He opens his mouth against Stiles', deepening the kiss.

"For the record," Stiles says, pulling away from Isaac breathlessly. "The bench is way better than actually playing."

"Is that so?" Isaac asks, slipping his hands under Stiles' jersey and resting his fingers on his newly toned stomach.

"Oh, definitely. You're not on the field with me, so what's the point?" Stiles says, completely our of breath, as Isaac moves his mouth to his neck, sucking at the skin as Stiles speaks. "They don't need me anyway."

"Maybe," Isaac breathes between kisses. "I should,"

"Mmm," Stiles sighs as Isaac presses a line of kisses down to his collarbone. 

"Step up my game," Isaac finishes his thought before returning his lips to Stiles' hungrily. 

"Why's that?" Stiles asks after a minute, both of them breathing heavily as they pull apart.

"No use being on the bench if you're not there," Isaac says, meeting Stiles' lips with his own once more. He quickly turns Stiles around, pinning him against the wall and lifting him up in one quick movement. 

Hooking his legs around Isaac's waist, Stiles' tightens his grip on Isaac's neck, pulling their faces close enough he can taste their breath mingling. "Or, I could just step mine down," he offers. "Only reason I stepped it up was to get your attention," he admits.

"For the record," Isaac says. "You didn't need to do anything to get my attention. You already had it."

Stiles grins at Isaac before pressing their lips together. "So I can go back to sucking?" Stiles asks.

Isaac nods. "Yes, you can go back to sucking. Now no more talking," he adds.

"Wait," Stiles says quickly. "I have to ask. If you're good, why doesn't Coach put you in?"

"I wanted to stay on the bench," Isaac says. "Had to give him a reason to keep me there. He thinks I suck, so I don't play."

Stiles realizes they both schemed to get further with the other, which is touching, funny and admittedly, a little desperate all at the same time. He laughs, and so does Isaac. They share a grin right before their lips collide again.


End file.
